McKay and the Aftermath
by luvsbitca
Summary: I watched 'McKay and Mrs Miller' and there were some massive issues I had with the episode so I've written a coda to it. pre-McKay/Sheppard.


**Title –** McKay and the Aftermath  
 **Author –** Moonbeam  
 **Rating –** General  
 **Warnings –** Nothing  
 **Summary –** I watched 'McKay and Mrs Miller' and there were some massive issues I had with the episode so I've written a coda to it. pre-McKay/Sheppard.  
 **Disclaimer –** Don't own either universe or the characters – just the ability to collect OTPs like I collect IKEA furniture.  
 **Author's Notes –** I love Rodney – I understand that I maybe shouldn't love him as deeply as I do but he's my special space flower and I am not pleased when people wound him.  
I got very upset about this episode and while I was doing my shopping this popped into my brain and would not leave. In my head this is kind of part of a much longer series that if I had time I would write but I'm not sure I'm ever going to have enough time to write all the things I want to write.

 **McKay and the Aftermath**  
by Moonbeam

"What's wrong?" John said as he walked into Rodney's room without knocking or waiting for the door to close behind him.

Rodney looked up, yanking his shirt the rest of the way down his chest and glared at John. "Come in, please, I'd love for everyone to see me getting dressed!"

John felt the reprimand but pushed on anyway. "I thought you'd get dressed in your bedroom, like a normal person."

Rodney flushed and his eyes grew a little more distant and John knew that what was about to come out of his mouth wouldn't be the retort John was looking for but something wounded and John didn't think he would be able to take that. Then, Rodney just turned and walked into his bedroom and John stared at his back for a moment before taking a step forward and then stopping, taking another and then shaking his hands to try and make his body decide if it was following or not.

"Rodney?"

"I'm getting dressed! In my bedroom…like a normal person."

John's head dropped down and he had to bite back a groan. "I didn't come to argue…I just want to know what's wrong."

"Nothing," Rodney told him through the open doorway but John couldn't see him. He could hear the lie though. "You can go."

"I know something is wrong – you've been holed up in your lab since Jeannie left."

"I'm always holed up in my lab."

"But normally you at least come out to eat and…" John trailed off. What he wanted to say was …and spent some time with John unless there was a crisis. And then…depending on the crisis, John would seek Rodney out.

"I've got a stockpile of MREs and I've got no other reason to be out of the lab – we haven't had a mission."

"We haven't had a mission because you refuse to talk to anyone on the team."

"I haven't been refusing to talk to anyone."

"You have been hiding; which you only do when your feelings are hurt."

Rodney stormed out of his bedroom, arms already crossed over his chest. "Why would I be hurt that my team likes my sister better than me, that they took such delight in laughing at my expense, or that they also like the me from another universe better as well. Why would that hurt me?"

"We don't like Jeannie better than you."

Rodney snorted his disbelief. "I know people only put up with me because I'm brilliant."

"A genius."

Rodney nodded, his expression just a little less painful to look at than it had been a moment before. "But you're my team and I didn't think you would all throw me over for a…a…better model quite so quickly."

"Not a better model."

"And you; of all people," Rodney bit out.

John froze, shoulders tense – neither of them talked about the…the thing that meant John should have been better for Rodney.

"You of all people," Rodney said again, shoulders slopped in. "Should have…could have…you played golf with him."

"You hate golf."

Rodney nodded. "You're right, I do."

"But-" John started, with no real idea what he was going to say.

"And I'm not as nice as Jeannie and I'm less willing to tell jokes at her expense and I was fifteen when I went to university so the hilarious stories about my time in high school when I was twelve and thirteen and being bullied by the eighteen year olds who hated the smart kid in their classes are obviously just-"

"You were twelve?"

"Yes," Rodney bit out.

"I didn't know that."

"No, Jeannie doesn't mention that. She just tells the story and leaves out the context."

"It's not funny."

"You were certainly laughing like a bull horn at something that wasn't funny."

"I was laughing at the stories – you're right but it's not okay that people treated you like that and I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

"And you're right…I should have…I…I showed her the message you'd recorded when it looked like we were going to die."

"What?"

"You obviously care about her Rodney and I wanted her to know that about you."

"I…you…you did that?" Rodney's arms dropped to his sides and John took a breath.

"Yes," John said, he'd known he'd hurt Rodney's feelings but the other man was so stubbornly fine all the time that he normally got over things like that quickly. He hadn't realised how bad it was this time and when he'd realised that it might be serious he'd wanted to do something to help. "I have a brother."

Rodney frowned at him.

"I haven't…it's been a while since…" John hated talking. "…we're estranged."

"Why?"

John closed his eyes and groaned. "You know I don't…I'm no…because he sided with my mother."

"And you haven't spoken to your mother in a while either?"

John nodded.

"So, you wouldn't want her to show up on Atlantis?"

John thought for a second about his mother on Atlantis…any of his family really but his mother especially. He shuddered at the thought.

"Jeannie and I have always had different priorities."

John nodded, relaxing a little now that Rodney wasn't looking at him with that wounded hurt.

"She's brilliant…very, very brilliant."

"But not as brilliant as you?"

Rodney looked unsure for a moment and then sat down. "She might be more…but she didn't skip years at school and she was popular – she was more like our mother than our father. Mum was always capable of making things better."

"Is she who you got the practical stuff from?"

"What?"

"You're not theoretical," John said. "Some of the other scientists are theoretical – they never leave the lab but you're different."

"I have more than one PhD."

"I was in the mathematics department at Stanford," John said. "PhDs do not practical skills make."

"Stanford?"

John shrugged. "You knew I took the Mensa test."

"But why Stanford?"

"My father wanted Ivy League."

"And you?"

"Wanted anything that went fast and flew."

Rodney rolled his eyes "Of course you did."

"So, who taught you how to _fix_ things."

Rodney rolled his eyes again. "I went to university at fifteen – I had no choice but to learn how to fend for myself."

"Rodney," John prompted.

"I took the blender apart when I was three. Mum wouldn't let me have dessert until it was fixed."

"So you put it back together?"

"It worked better when I was done."

"Of course it did."

"By the time I was six I'd taken apart everything in the house and put it back together. Then my mother started picking things up from neighbours that were broken and I started fixing them. I was charging for it by the time I was seven."

"What did you spend the money on?"

"Tools, computers, anything I could use to learn more."

"When did you start skipping grades?"

"I…it doesn't matter."

"Rodney, we're trying something here."

"I couldn't read before I was eight."

"What?" John said, surprised before he was able to stop himself.

Rodney's arms crossed over his chest. "It's quite common – my interests were beyond my skills so I didn't learn and they didn't learn about my IQ until then. I went through my primary schooling over the next few years with extension classes and then I was at university at fifteen. It might have been younger if I'd bothered to learn how to read at a younger age."

"How old were you when Jeannie was born?"

"By the time she was born my parents had learned from their mistakes and she was given extension opportunities while staying in school with her age peers."

"Mistakes?"

"I have good hearing and my parents were never very good as closing doors."

"I'm sure Elizabeth would say something about how people are constantly learning from their past and changing as time goes on."

"I would say my parents were pleased when I went to university and then began working for a private think tank."

"How old were you?"

"Sixteen and a half. I began working on my second PhD when I was seventeen. Then, when Jeannie went off to uni I went to work for a university."

"When did you start working for the military?"

"They recruited me from Oxford."

"Oxford?"

"I was involved in some research work there for a few years."

"You've never mentioned it."

Rodney shrugged. "It's not something I can talk about."

"You talk about everything."

"Except the stuff I can't talk about."

John bit at his lower lip and stared at Rodney for a moment. "I have-"

"No, you don't – not for what I was working on."

"Really?"

Rodney smiled. "I think you would have liked the maths – it was elegant."

"That's just mean."

"There is a lot of elegant maths in the world that is freely available to everyone," Rodney told him.

"And even more of it being created here."

Rodney smiled. "When you're too old to be a flyboy you can work on the mathematics team."

"That's high praise."

"It's purely selfish – you're not a complete idiot and your less likely to try and kill yourself by riding a bomb into a Wraith ship if you're working out mathematics proofs and theorems."

"You know that's not true."

"I can hope it is."

John smiled. "Do you want to come to dinner?"

Rodney looked past John for a moment. And John was worried that this thing that they didn't talk about might have taken more of a hit than he was willing to allow.

"There is lasagne – Bianchi has a broken ankle so he said he'd cook for the exposition tonight."

"I hope he didn't use any citrus."

John smiled. "Everyone on Atlantis knows better than to use citrus; if they did they would have to deal with me and the rest of your team."

Rodney looked like he was tempted to argue but then he smiled weakly and nodded. "Then let's go to dinner."

John felt even more tension leaving his body as Rodney grabbed his tablet and walked to the door.

"You can tell me about your brother, mother, father, or anyone else anytime you like – if you want, of course," Rodney said, with his back to John and then he opened the door without waiting for any type of answer.

John followed him out of the room and through Atlantis, dropping into step behind him, and knowing he wouldn't be able to find a way to say it but it was nice to know that someone would be willing to listen if he ever found the words.

 **The End…but I don't really want it to be**


End file.
